A part of Sharon Old's poem, the imagery of which I liked very much...

Resting
On the crest of the mountains, one huge
cloud with scalloped edges of blazing
evening light, we did not turn back,
we stayed with it, even though we were
far beyond what we knew, we rose
into the grain of the cloud, even though we were
frightened, the air hollow, even though
nothing grew there, even though ti is a
place from which no one has ever come back

--Ecstasy by Sharon Olds
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uYe7Bvdv6Ow